


Sway

by Heronfem



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing, Did I mention the fluff, Fluff, M/M, New York City, dean can dance, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean and Castiel go dancing, and Castiel loves everyone in the bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sway

“You realize that if someone calls us out, I’m leaving,” Dean told him, downing his second glass of scotch with a speed that was borderline dangerous. He looked anxious in the bar, an odd occurrence that Castiel noted in his mind. Writing it in his journal later would be a good activity to keep his memory fresh. He skimmed his eyes over Dean’s body, taking in the clothes he wore. They were soft and soothingly normal, just worn jeans and a faded t-shirt with the Led Zeppelin symbol on it. Castiel rather liked it, and made another note to write down the combination.

“I’m aware of your fears, and plenty willing to accept that.” He carefully reached out to pluck the glass from Dean’s hand, setting it firmly down on the bar. “Calm your flight instinct, lest I have to chase you. You’re easily as fast as the runner of the Marathon.”

“…What?”

Rolling his eyes, Castiel hopped off his stool and took his hand, tugging him towards the dance floor. “Come, Dean.”

The bar was quiet, only a few patrons and the bartender left. It was a small place, but on the nicer end. Manhattan wasn’t normally a Winchester hunting ground, but with some sort of vicious black widow of a shape shifter on the move, they’d ended up there. They were under dressed for how nice the bar was, but it didn’t matter. The place was comfortably dim, the glasses were clean, and the alcohol was good (they even had a very specific bottle of very nice wine that Castiel remembered being made, which had delighted him), and so Castiel dragged him to the dance floor of to the side. There was something sappy playing, and Dean ducked his head as Castiel pulled him in close, one hand on Dean’s back and wrapping the other two together. After a few fumbled attempts at hand placement Dean settled for Castiel’s back, and they began a slow box step, Castiel gently pulling Dean into each step. There was no one leading, just a rhythm that, with time, smoothed into proper steps.

“Thank you for this,” Castiel said quietly as Dean carefully began to turn them, rather than keeping them in the same place. “I know you’d rather be watching the game.”

“Nah,” Dean muttered, shoulders relaxing as he got the hang of it and they began the cross step, hips brushing as they turned, Castiel handing over the lead for a moment. Dean caught on fast, for someone who didn’t know how to dance. “Sam decided he needed to get laid, so I think we would’ve been unwelcome guests. Besides, I never managed to get into a bar in New York before.”

Castiel smiled, ducking his head. “Now _that_ I find hard to believe.”

“What? It’s not like we’re in New York all that often. Last time we were here, I think I was 10?” Dean neatly dipped him, making Castiel squeak in surprise.

“You are doing this far too well for someone who doesn’t dance,” he said breathily, face flushed as Dean snapped them back upright in a way that brought them closer. They breathed the same air for a moment, Castiel’s eyes flicking to Dean’s lips before the song changed to a cha cha.

“Yeah, well, I lie.” Dean let go, only to take his hands again. “I’m gonna guess you at least know this one?”

“I can remember its basic form, yes,” Castiel said, pleased. Dean had only agreed to one song, and that was only after he’d begged and pleaded, citing the fact that he’d never danced with another person as a reason. Two was an extremely unexpected treat and he was never going to complain about that.

“Good. Keep up.”

The quick three step kept Castiel on his toes, and it was all he could do not to openly stare at the easy swing of Dean’s hips as Sway came from the speakers, Frank Sinatra’s crooning voice curling through the air. From the bar, the bartender was grinning as he watched them. Dean’s neat steps and shamelessly ease at the way he flicked Castiel from spins to easy dips and back again were making Castiel breathless, as were the hands ever so often going further than necessary to skim temptingly across his body. He was blushing brightly by the middle of the song, well aware of how Dean was working it so that Castiel was the center of the dance, showing him off to the now watching bar goers. 

Seeing the look on Castiel’s face, Dean leaned in to kiss him quickly before spinning him four or five times, and someone whistled.

For a heart-wrenching second, Castiel thought that Dean would leave, but he just laughed, eyes bright as he brought them back to the basic step. Castiel couldn’t help but laugh as Dean pulled him in close, clasping their hands together and finally truly taking the lead, hand firm on his back to lead him neatly in quick, almost dainty steps across the floor, and as the song ended, he dipped him low, kissing his throat quickly before pulling him up.

Castiel immediately wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling at his throat as Dean chuckled, kissing the top of his head.

“That was- that was _fantastic_ ,” Castiel told him breathlessly. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, it was fun. Haven’t gotten to do that in a while.” In a shockingly bold move, Dean tucked a finger under Castiel’s chin to tilt his head up and kiss him warmly. Castiel melted against him, hands curling in his shirt. 

Humanity, he decided dizzily when they pulled away, would have been worth it just for how quickly Dean could turn his legs to proverbial jelly. Someone from the bar whistled and applauded, making them both blush as they walked back off the floor to the bar.

“You two are _great_ dancers,” the bartender told them, pushing the bottle of wine at Castiel, whose eyes lit up. “The rest of this is on the house, you two made everyone’s night.”

The rest of the bar goers, who had congregated at the actual bar, all lifted glasses with a chorus of smiles and cheerful laughter. Dean went bright red, and Castiel, grinned, taking his hand.

“I love everyone in this bar,” he announced to raucous laughter, and Dean kissed his cheek as they sat down again, pulling the wine over.


	2. Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14 years later.

Fourteen years later, Castiel was happily human and the angels had been restored to Heaven. There were small feet in the bunker on the morning of their anniversary. Dean woke without his husband beside him, without surprise. Fourteen years of developing a loving marital relationship had taught him to expect Castiel to go for the coffee and write in his journal a bit first thing upon waking up. He wasn’t a morning cuddler until he’d had his coffee. Rising slowly, ignoring the dull aches and pains of age, he pulled on his robe and headed for the kitchen.

He found him in the middle of his second cup, a sleepy smile on his face as he worked his way into a sugary coma, his journal sitting closed on the counter with a pen resting on it. Castiel took his coffee something akin to a coffee flavor sugar slush, and Dean loved him for it. Wrapping his arms around his husband from behind, he murmured, “Sweetheart.”

“Mmm, Dean?”

“Come dance with me.”

“But-”

“Cas,” Dean purred, plucking the coffee cup from his hand and turning him around. Castiel leaned into him, smiling as Sway came on, the record spinning pleasantly in the other room and Frank Sinatra crooning through the surround sound they’d wired to the record player. The first of their three children poked her head in, giggled, and dashed away. Chuckling, Castiel looped his arms around Dean.

“You gonna take me out dancing tonight?”

“Aw, angel,” Dean teased, kissing his forehead. “I was thinkin’ we could stay in. Watch a movie, read some books, have a nice bottle of beer-”

“You deny me my one nice bottle of wine a year and I will kick your sorry behind to the couch, mister.”

“So sweet to me,” Dean smiled, kissing him warmly. Castiel melted into him, hands curling in the lapel of his robe.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered when they parted.

“Happy anniversary,” Dean replied.

And all was well.


End file.
